


love is the most intense.

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The text from Michael was more apology than banter, but at the end he assured Rich that he was still his date to prom.





	love is the most intense.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a little over a month, oof. ...K, shoutout to Jay for proofreading, ILY. (ノ_<。)

 

The dance fliers are everywhere, pinned on walls, stuffed between book pages, behind stall doors, it was inescapable. Prom started at six and rode out to eleven; that became common knowledge when all the invitations and banners were flooding. The more decorations Rich saw, the more awake he was. They were almost like alarm bells. Crushing the fresh flier from his locker, Rich dipped and moved through the sea of kids. He hadn’t seen his confirmed-date since the real show-off kids got ahold of the glitter and confetti. The brightness everywhere made him antsy, something about the glint in his peripheral leaving a perpetual bad taste in his mouth.

 

When Rich was home he took his phone out, beginning a draft text to Michael. He restarted at least five times, the unreasonable guilty gut feeling making him sick. Groaning, he decided against messaging Michael first, instead opening up the chat with the guy’s sidekick. Jeremy’s responses were surprisingly levelheaded as the two went back and forth. Rich was assured his date’s disappearance wasn’t out of character, and it was just that Michael couldn’t do the whole sensory overload thing. Jeremy went on, repeating and rephrasing ‘no, rich, you’re fine’ and ‘don’t worry,’ in more ways than Rich could count. When the call was over, he sighed with worry still heavy in his chest.

 

He thumbed back to his text tab with Michael. One more reread, a little self-hyping and the weight was shifted. Once the message was sent out, his phone’s face was down on his bed beside him. While anxiety pounded in his chest, he showered. Afterwards, his phone went off; he pawed for it frantically.

 

The text from Michael was more apology than banter, but at the end he assured Rich that he was still his date to prom.

 

**

 

Everything went smoothly; the pickup was on time, the gym didn’t suffocate them upon entering. Rich had Michael where he wanted him, finally. They were hand in hand. Rich dipped his date down surprisingly easy. Michael looked over the rims of his glasses, flummoxed before barking with laughter. That smile fueled the fire caged in his ribs and Rich thought he’d burn up this close to the sun.

  
“God, look at you..” He said without thinking, face warm.  
  
“You’ve seen me before, Rich.”

 

The way Michael said Rich’s name should have been inconsequential, but his heart fucking soared. He swallowed thickly, barely managing to keep a casual smile.  


When they parted, Christine bumped her hip against Rich’s at the punch table. “Not too much?” He pressed his lip to the cup but didn’t drink, instead thinking. She glanced at him with worried eyes and he seemed to come back down to earth then. He nodded mutely, still hung up on Michael’s voice and how well they fitted together before.

 

“What’s wrong? Is it the glitter?”

 

She babbled about the banners and the glitter, this and that. Rich thoughtfully drinks his punch, making a face out how sweet it was. He interrupts. “I’ve got it really bad for him, C.”

 

Christine looks at him, mouth o-shaped and eyes wide, cartoonishly processing. “ _Riiiiiiiiiiiich!_ ” She makes a noise out of his name, sounding more like a balloon deflating and hissing than a person. Rich watches her miss the table, drop her drink and yelp when it splashes on her shoes. When she picks the cup up, Rich holds her still with a hand on her shoulder. She buzzes with excitement, impossible to contain.

 

“Keep it on the DL, okay?”

 

With a free hand she mimes a zip of the lips, a lock and the key being flicked  away. The expression of utter delight doesn’t disappear from her face even while nodding, and her smile makes Rich nervous. He utters a quick ‘please,’ before moving towards the trash to trash his cup. His racing heartbeat is louder than the music playing.

 

**

 

Rich kisses Michael, guiding his back against cold PT Cruiser. He rocks up onto his toes to get a good press, lips meeting softly. His hand comes up to hold the back of Michael’s neck, pulling him down for more and silently hoping the angle isn’t bad. Like this, they fit perfect. The prom’s ambience is still heavy, it encompasses, when they part Rich sighs contently. His eyes open slowly, watching Michael grin goofily.

 

“ _Ooh_ , easy there, tiger.” Rich jokes, absentmindedly messing with a curl against Michael’s nape. He tries not to think about how hot his breath comes when they’re so close. They could kiss again. He wants to kiss again. He really wants to kiss again.

 

“Uh, you practically ate my face off, Rich.”

 

“Are you dissing my mad-good makeout skills, Michael Mell?” His tone is heavy with fake offense, wounded.

 

They laugh together, Michael sucks in a breath, “Dude, whatever can you just kiss me again?”

  
  


**

  


“I’m not a virgin or anything, just,” Rich slowly says, trying to be careful with his words. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself embarrassed. The warmth kissing his cheeks is completely different than before, he can’t pinpoint why. Michael waits patiently for him to finish, hands still holding the highest button on Rich’s blazer. The fumbling for words continue.

 

Michael’s hanging onto every word. Rich’s praying his tentative tone isn’t off-putting. He moves to hold onto Michael’s forearm. It’s only fair to hold onto each other, he thinks dumbly. “But, but, but, you know. This is new, for me… because I’ve never gotten the chance to lay with a dude, you know? So, I was thinkin’ maybe we could go slow…”

 

Awkwardly, his trailing off ends with a fearful laugh. Rich looks towards Michael and his expression is unreadable. There’s a beat of silence and in a second, uneasiness settles in his stomach. His blush creeps and his ears go hot. The vulnerability is overwhelming and he can feel himself backing out, afraid he must’ve tripped over some boundary but Michael nods. His face softens, and he cracks a short smile. “Yeah, I, uh think we can do that.”

 

Rich’s heart pounds heavy in his chest, heavy hits against his ribs. He lets out a small breath of relief and Michael’s laugh is hushed as he continues unbuttoning the blazer in front of him. There’s warmth between them, soft and hazy. The tenderness in Michael’s actions, careful and almost-loving, it leaves Rich’s face incredibly hot and his heart melting.

 

**

 

Michael turns onto his shoulder, the mattress dips. He can feel himself radiating heat, warm and loved everywhere. Their breathing  fills the silence, all close and intimate while face to face. It leaves his heart syrupy and his eyes glittering. “—I think, I like this.” Rich confesses, with eyes soft. He watches Michael’s face and the short, hot laugh that tumbles out leaves him dazed.

 

“I like this too.”

 

“I mean you, I like _you_. You know that’s what I meant, right?”

 

“Yeah, man, I figured. I like you too,” Michael playfully mocks. “You know that’s what _I_ meant, right?”

 

“We’re on the same page then.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I like you, and you like me,” A pause and soft ‘ _wow_.’ He doesn’t know what to say next and by the time he does know, he hopes Michael hasn’t fallen asleep already. Rich can’t fully make out the expression facing him.

 

“Do you want to date— _are we dating_?”

 

When there’s no reply Rich swallows dryly, ready to pretend that didn’t just occur. Maybe he jumped the gun, but they had talked so much and… Shifting under the blanket, he’s careful not to bump into Michael while his mind races. He’ll sleep on it, and if he’s asks about it in the morning he’ll say he doesn’t remember. Rich catches the sound of movement, and Michael kisses his forehead. It’s dorky and borderline cliche.

 

“Yes, I’d love to, I guess so and goodnight.” 

 

Rich holds his breath, "Okay, goodnight."

  


**

  
  



End file.
